Is The Matrix Gnostic or Christian?

Note: This article refers to
important plot points in The
Matrix necessary to this overview of the moral and
spiritual significance of the film. If you haven’t seen the film
and wish to be able to do so without knowing in advance what will
happen, please do so before reading this article.
SDG

I’ve lost track of how many readers have
written to me in the last three years asking me to review
The Matrix, but it’s
safe to say that such requests have outnumbered similar requests
for all other movies combined.

This level of interest is not primarily due to The
Matrix’s visual innovations, such as its groundbreaking use
of bullet-time photography. Nor is it, for example, Keanu
Reeves’s acting that cries out for more critical discussion.
Rather, it’s the philosophical, spiritual, and moral implications
of this phenomenally popular action pic that are responsible for
all the attention.

Interpretations of The Matrix differ widely. There are
some who see the film as a neo-gnostic fable, an allegory of
Eastern world-denying thought, in which the known world is
perceived by an elite few as an illusory dream-prison from which
we must escape. There are also some who see it as a veritable
Christian parable, in which mankind is born into slavery until
the arrival of the promised One who will bring liberation to
all.

This year, the whole question has been cast in a new light by
the release of a pair of Matrix sequels, The Matrix Reloaded and
The Matrix
Revolutions. However, it still seems to me to make sense
to begin discussion with the first film considered on its own. As
useful as the sequels are for understanding how the Wachowski
brothers today see the storyline of the first film developing,
the original film, released four years ago, represents a separate
creative act, and its indeterminacy is an important part of its
widespread appeal and diverse interpretations. (For a separate
consideration of the sequels, see Part 2 of this essay.)

In any case, my view with respect to the original film is that
both of the above-mentioned views are exaggerated: that The
Matrix is neither meaningfully gnostic nor meaningfully
Christian. Rather, it is simply a sci‑fi
action-adventure tale told in a mythic mode. While influences
from both biblical motifs and pop mysticism are in evidence, the
film references these sources — along with many other sources,
including classical Greek culture, Lewis Carroll, and Star Wars — in a way that
is of aesthetic significance, not religious. Certain motifs and
phrases may remind us alternately of Christianity or of Eastern
mysticism, but attempts to force the movie into a gnostic or
Christian mold are unconvincing, and depend upon a selective
approach that ignores inconvenient or contrary facts.

Is The Matrix Gnostic?

From a historic Christian perspective, one’s
attitude toward the physical world and the body is very
important. Christianity (like Judaism and Islam) has a positive,
world-affirming view of matter and the body, which are the work
of God’s creative activity and are therefore both real and
good.

By contrast, many religious traditions, including heretical
gnostic offshoots of Christianity and Judaism, have a negative,
world-denying view of matter and the body. The physical world is
variously seen as somehow illusory, intrinsically defective, or
outright evil, and bodily existence is regarded as a trap or a
prison, perhaps a punishment or a process of purification.

In any case, physical existence at best seen as a necessary
evil from which the goal is to escape. Those who succeed go on to
a disembodied higher state (which may or may not involve the
dissolution of their individual identities); those who don’t may
be forced to perpetuate their corporeal entanglement through
reincarnation.

This vision of the afterlife contrasts sharply with the
Christian hope, which is not a purely spiritual existence
in heaven, but the resurrection of the body and the renewal of
the physical world. Where gnostics long to put off the
body, the Christian longing is "not that we would be
unclothed, but that we would be further clothed" (2 Cor
5:4), that "this mortality must put on immortality" (1 Cor
15:53).

To what extent does The Matrix resonate with or reflect
this contemptuous attitude toward the world, physical reality,
and bodily existence? The film’s premise, as Neo (Keanu Reeves)
learns from the mysterious Morpheus (Lawrence Fishburne), is that
the world he knows — a world ostensibly identical to our own — is
in reality a computer-generated virtual environment, contrived by
an insidious artificial intelligence to pacify the minds of human
beings while using their bodies as a natural resource.

So, The Matrix does propose that the known world is
both an illusion and a prison. Yet for many reasons, the film is
very far from expressing anything like gnostic or world-denying
contempt for physicality or the body.

"Welcome to the real world." First and
foremost, although The Matrix depicts a world very much
like our world as an illusion and a prison, it does not
depict liberation or freedom from that illusion as escape from
physicality into a state of disembodied happiness. On the
contrary, the "real world" depicted in the film is even more
intractably physical — and far more disturbing — than the
illusions of the Matrix.

In fact, it’s precisely in the Matrix — not outside of
it — that Neo and Morpheus and the others leave behind their real
physical bodies and escape, at least partially, the constraints
of gravity and other physical laws. Yet the film is quite clear
that it’s the quasi-disembodied state of the Matrix that’s the
prison, and the real, physical, bodily world, frightening as it
is, that represents freedom.

The heroes of The Matrix are precisely those who have
chosen to reject a comforting, disembodied illusion for
the freedom of corporeal existence in the physical world, with
all its rough edges and sharp corners. "Welcome to the real
world," Morpheus tells Neo when he emerges from the Matrix for
the first time. Significantly, the one character who does finally
choose the Matrix’s disembodied illusion over the reality of the
physical world is precisely the traitor.

The film also establishes that, even while in the Matrix, the
heroes remain inseparably dependent upon their physical bodies in
the physical world. The importance of the body is graphically
illustrated in a scene in which a character in the Matrix is
prevented from returning to the real world when her body is
forcibly unplugged from the Matrix. From a gnostic perspective,
we might expect this to be the character’s moment of liberation
from the prison of the body. Instead, she dies. This is hardly a
gnostic repudiation of the body.

Embracing procreation and sense
experience.The Matrix further contradicts gnostic
attitudes by depicting the common gnostic dream of escape from
sex and procreation as part of the nightmare of mankind’s
enslavement, and idealizing normal human procreation.

The premise is that, because most humans lead virtual lives
within the confines of the Matrix, new generations aren’t born
naturally, but are grown in laboratories by the enemy. Among the
free humans of mankind’s last remaining community, however, there
are some who are naturally conceived and born. "Me and my brother
Dozer, we’re both 100% pure old-fashioned home-grown human, born
free, right here in the real world," one of them tells Neo with a
smile. This cheerfully positive attitude toward sex and
procreation is the very antithesis of gnostic contempt for
physicality.

A similarly positive approach to bodily existence can be seen
in an animated discussion about eating and taste, in which a
character contemplates the implications of having lived much of
their lives in the illusion of the Matrix. "How do the machines
know what Tasty Wheat tasted like?" he asks rhetorically. "Maybe
they got it wrong. Maybe what I think Tasty Wheat tasted like
actually tasted like oatmeal, or tuna fish. That makes you wonder
about a lot of things." It’s a small thing, but interest in how
food tastes is, as far as it goes, a good and wholesome
thing.

Significantly, there is one character who shows no
enthusiasm for physical or sensory experience, even in the
simulated world of the Matrix. In the film’s lone flash of
something like real gnostic-like contempt for bodily and physical
experience, the malevolent Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving) — an enemy
computer program — expresses disgust at even the simulation of
physicality around him.

"I hate this place," he tells Morpheus. "This zoo, this
prison, this… reality, whatever you want to call it, I
can’t stand it any longer. It’s the smell, if there is such a
thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every
time I do, I fear that I’ve somehow been infected by it."

Even the traitor, who would rather eat steak in the Matrix
than real-world rations on the Nebuchadnezzar, doesn’t
have the utter world-rejecting attitude of Agent Smith, the
movie’s one true gnostic.

Echoes of pop mysticism. Having said
all of the above, it is true that The Matrix plays with
echoes of Eastern-style philosophy and pop martial-arts mysticism
in ways that may remind knowledgeable viewers of world-denying
attitudes.

In particular, Morpheus, with his riddles and esoteric
pronouncements, is like a Zen master or martial-arts guru who
schools Neo in the ways of mind over matter. Within the confines
of the Matrix, Morpheus suggests, Neo’s only boundaries are those
in his mind: "What are you waiting for? You’re faster than this.
Don’t think you are, know you are… Stop
trying to hit me and hit me!" (One is reminded of
Yoda’s challenge to Luke in The Empire Strikes Back:
"Try not! Do, or do not. There is no try." In the
real world, where one’s best efforts can be defeated by
intractable reality, this is nonsense.)

Perhaps the most obvious pop-mysticism reference is that of
the "spoon boy" in the Oracle’s apartment, who can bend spoons by
looking at them (as Uri Geller and others have claimed to be able
to do). "Do not try and bend the spoon," this young guru calmly
instructs Neo. "That’s impossible. Instead, only try to realize
the truth: There is no spoon. Then you’ll see that it is not the
spoon that bends, it is only yourself."

Within the world of the Matrix, of course, it’s quite true
that "there is no spoon." However, the line "it is not the spoon
that bends, it is only yourself" is unavoidably pseudo-mystical
gibberish. Lines like this don’t make The Matrix gnostic,
but they do deliberately echo or resonate with popular pictures
of world-denying mysticism. Essentially, the film is riffing on
popular mystical and martial-arts stereotypes in order to create
an aura of profundity. Significantly, no one does any
spoon-bending in the mess of the Nebuchadnezzar.

Brains in a vat. If the premise of
The Matrix seems genuinely gnostic or world-denying to
some Christian viewers, this may be in part due to a lack of
familiarity with the more direct philosophical roots of the
premise — specifically, the thought-experiments of René
Descartes.

Descartes’s philosophical method was to begin by asking
whether we can know anything at all — even that our own bodies or
any of the things we see are real — since we can imagine that all
our perceptions are being generated by a powerful enemy spirit.
In subsequent philosophical discussion, Descartes’s hypothetical
powerful spirit has often been replaced by a mad scientist, and
the hypothesis has come to be known as the "brains in a vat"
hypothesis. This — not eastern mysticism or world-denying
philosophy — is the real imaginative source of The
Matrix’s premise.

Incidentally, Descartes’s conclusion was that we at least know
that our own minds have existence (cogito ergo sum, "I
think, therefore I am"). From there, Descartes proceeded to argue
for the existence of God and thence to the knowability of the
world around us. In other words, he effectively rejected
the Matrix premise, on the grounds that it would be inconsistent
with God’s perfection to permit so absolute a deception to occur.
If he’s right, this has obvious implications for the extent to
which The Matrix can be regarded as a Christian
allegory.

Is The Matrix Christian?

In the world of The Matrix, men are
"born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or
taste or touch." Then comes "the One," the promised deliverer who
will overcome mankind’s enemy and liberate the human race from
bondage. Morpheus has been foretold that he will find this figure
of prophecy; and, like John the Baptist heralding Jesus as the
Lamb of God, Morpheus recognizes Neo to be the One.

"Neo" has two meanings: It’s the Greek word for "new," but
it’s also an anagram for "one." Like Christ, the New Adam, the
Chosen One, Neo freely gives himself up to save another, going to
face his enemies alone. He "dies," comes back to life transformed
with greater power and authority, and, in the film’s final shot,
ascends into heaven, where he prepares for the coming liberation
of humanity.

Neo is the "one," the Christ figure, but he’s also connected
with "Trinity" (Carrie-Anne Moss). This three-one connection is
reinforced throughout the film by the recurrence of the room
numbers 101 and 303. It might further be argued that Morpheus,
besides being a John the Baptist figure, is also a kind of father
figure to Neo and the other resistance fighters, completing the
"trinity" of heroes. Of course there’s also a Judas figure (in
one scene he and Neo drink from the same cup, as Jesus and Judas
dipped in the same dish).

There are other resonances with Christianity. The "fallen"
world of the Matrix, we learn, was preceded by a "perfect,"
paradisaical simulation-world "where none suffered, where
everyone would be happy." But its first inhabitants rejected this
blissful environment, leading to the creation of the more
familiar Matrix-world. This back-story both echoes the doctrine
of the fall and also suggests the impossibility of putting fallen
man back into a paradisaical setting ("I believe that, as a
species, human beings define their reality through suffering and
misery," opines Agent Smith).

There’s also a sort of metaphorical birth-incarnation scene,
when Neo first leaves the disembodied world of the Matrix and
enters the physical world. Neo awakens in the "womb" of the
fluid-filled pod in which his body has grown, is severed from
umbilical-cord-like connective lines, and is flushed down a
birth-canal-like chute.

Still other biblical references include the name of humanity’s
last refuge, "Zion," and the name of Morpheus’s ship, the
Nebuchadnezzar (perhaps signifying Morpheus’s crew as
"exiles" awaiting a deliverer).

A doubtful Christ figure. Despite all
of these Christian and biblical references, The Matrix
isn’t really a Christian allegory, any more than it is a gnostic
fable. To put it another way, however interesting the film’s
Christian references may be from a critical perspective, The
Matrix offers little in the way of genuinely edifying or
uplifting moral or spiritual significance, at least as regards
the Christian parallels.

Certainly Neo is a dynamic hero, perhaps even a charismatic
one, but as a Christ-figure he doesn’t inspire the viewer with
anything like faith or love. His willingness to face death to
save another may be dramatically pleasing, but it lacks any sense
of true moral depth, self-sacrifice, humility, service, or love.
By contrast, Gandalf in The Fellowship of the
Ring, William Wallace in Braveheart, Fr. Gabriel
in The Mission, and
even the eponymous hero of The Iron Giant are all
much more evocative and inspiring Christ-figures whose various
self-sacrifices resonate far more persuasively with Jesus’
passion and death.

More troublingly, Neo’s mission of salvation involves killing
dozens of innocent human beings. In the movie’s biggest set
piece, Neo and Trinity walk into a government building lobby,
armed to the teeth, and begin blowing away dozens of unsuspecting
security guards.

From the perspective of real-world moral theology, this is
akin to resistance fighters killing innocent, unwitting civilians
of an oppressive regime. The film tries to justify the massacre,
in part with some philosophizing about people in the Matrix being
"part of the system," but it doesn’t wash. Nor does the mere
possibility of an Agent taking over the virtual body of one of
the guards offer credible justification.

Positive moral implications. That’s
not to say that there are no positive moral dimensions to the
film. There are. Most crucially, The Matrix emphasizes
truth as preferable to illusion, even when the truth is
unpleasant and the illusion comforting.

As a corollary, because truth is real and important, those who
claim to know the truth and who want to convey it to others are
depicted, not as arrogant, but as honest and compassionate. Given
the level of resistance to objective truth claims common today
(e.g., "How can you tell me what’s true for me?"), this is a
significant point.

Beyond this, The Matrix obviously depicts it as evil
for human beings to be deceived and enslaved, and above all to be
treated as commodities, as things to be used and then disposed
of. The startling image of an (animatronic) infant plugged into
the Matrix and awash in black goo may even be felt to have
pro-life implications. Finally, loyalty and sacrifice among
friends is depicted in a positive light, and treachery and
self-interest in a negative light.

Problematic moral implications. There
are also other problematic implications to the film. From a
Christian perspective, to begin with, the whole premise of the
unknowing enslavement of all of humanity by machines is a
staggeringly apocalyptic event that raises serious eschatological
questions: Would God allow all of humanity to be subjected to so
immense a deception? Descartes argued not.

Consider especially the implications of generations of humans
living and dying without real physical contact with one another.
While it’s possible to imagine Christian faith existing in such a
world (and indeed Morpheus mentions people going to church in the
Matrix), the Church itself, and in particular apostolic
succession and the papacy, cannot be perpetuated under these
conditions, since there is no physical laying on of hands. (This
problem is mitigated, though, by the fact that the film does
establish that not all of mankind is in the Matrix — there is one
surviving human community, Zion, where it’s possible to imagine
the Church having survived. On the other hand, what we see of
Zion in the sequel, The Matrix Reloaded, offers no
indication whatsoever of any Christian presence.)

In fact, God and religion seem to be basically irrelevant to
the characters in the film. Morality, too, tends generally to be
a nonissue. Of course there’s the glaring disregard for life seen
especially in the lobby massacre. Beyond this, Neo himself has a
shady background, and although he is in many ways transformed
during the course of the film, this doesn’t include any kind of
moral transformation. Likewise, Morpheus sets people free from
the Matrix, but there’s no indication that they’re any freer from
sin or evil.

Consider a scene in which a character named Mouse invites Neo
to have virtual sex with a digital woman of his own creation. The
other crew members may needle Mouse as a "digital pimp," but
there’s no real moral backbone to their criticism. ("Pay no
attention to these hypocrites," Mouse tells Neo. "To deny our
impulses is to deny the very thing that makes us human.")

Of course there’s no rule that says that characters fighting
against a great evil must be depicted as paragons of virtue. On
the other hand, the film’s overall lack of moral perspective does
make it hard to see it as meaningfully "Christian."